Walkabout
by pineconeface711
Summary: The Australian outback is not the ideal place to be, but that's where a group of people suddenly find themselves. Each of them are screwed up and need to move on. That's where walkabout comes in. Now it's either live together or die alone...
1. Death Screws With Luke

"_Daddy, where are you?" The little girl's soprano voice chanted. She was wearing her favorite yellow sundress. Despite her words, she was smiling her wide grin. Her blonde hair was nearly transparent in the sunlight. _

"_Please daddy. Come home!" She shrieked. Now tears caressed in her eyes, and wore a frightening face; that was twisting in terror. The yellow dress was mottled in fresh red blood that appeared to come out from a new cut in her stomach. Her translucent hair her was thrown all over her face, as if the wind blew it that way. She was trying to smooth it, so the blood on her hands got to it._

_She pulled a large butcher's knife out of her back as she sighed; "Now you're too late to save me again." With that she plummeted her way to the earth, a large gash appeared and swallowed her._

He quickly darted his eyes open. His heart was racing at the vision he saw.

"Not again Luke." He mumbled to himself. It was the same dream he'd been having every single night for the past four years. Each time it felt just as scary as the first. The dream always felt so real. In a technical it was real. His wife and daughter _were_ murdered. He was not there when the event occurred. So in all truth, he was too late.

Even now in his crap apartment, he tries to hide the past. Trying to forget about them, but not trying to move on. Just trying forget them. Luke does not wish to find another woman to love. A woman to marry, and have a happy life with children. He already had that and failed.

So simply every morning he gets up, brews himself a cup or two of coffee with no sugar or milk, and goes to work at the factory. None of the employees ever ask him anything, not even once. He simply minds his business and acts like everything is fine. When he gets home, he does not weep nor does he plead with God for his old life. All Luke does is live, and life seems to be catching up with him.

Now after each night after the dream he feels the sorrow again. He remembers it all; he tried so hard to forget. So this is why he decides he's sick of doing nothing. It's not like it matters anyway, he isn't going to do anything. He just wants to escape; now he knows how to do that.

***

It was just another lazy day in the factory. Everything was like usual; the machines were slow and choppy and everyone else acted the same. They all wore haggard expressions, still half asleep, and if not all most were underage and looked as if they hadn't eaten in weeks. Most of them probably hadn't. Luke didn't ask because a good sum of them couldn't speak English, and even if they did there was nothing he could do about it.

Luke barely had enough money for himself. That's what you get when you're paid eleven dollars and fifty cents an hour, for fifteen hours, seven days a week. In the end with groceries, taxes, rent, paying for his mother's health care costs in the asylum, and the current economic crisis of the country, there isn't much spending money left.

Not that he cared about those people anyway. They were just as miserable as him. This made Luke somewhat relieved. He wasn't the only one in the world that suffered. But he still suffered from his dreadful past. Not just the death of his family, but the entire chain of events he saw in Iraq. The various techniques he used to torture people to get information. Most of them were innocent too. The houses of the poor he'd storm and separate families. The bombs, Beckendorf and he would set. Worst of all the wounded men of his own army he left behind, because it was too dangerous to stay. Yes, Luke saw a lot in his life, all the more reason to end it early.

***

At eight o'clock p.m. he finally unlocks the door to his shabby apartment. He places his newly acquired plastic bag of heavy duty rope on his small and pathetic wooden table. He considers having dinner or even a glass of water. No, he finally decides. It might make him chicken out.

Luke pulled out a cheap pen that barely had enough ink in it to write his note, on the very crinkled piece of a sticky note. He began:

_Best of luck to anyone one who finds this. Tell my mother, May Castellan, that I'm dead. Then she won't fret over when I don't visit (even though I haven't visited for five years.). If you decide to go to my funeral, and a man who says he's my father, well tell him he's a bastard; that to get out. If he ever cared, he'd visit sooner. That I can't wait to see him rot in hell right next to me._

_Luke Castellan_

Luke tied the immensely thick rope around the ceiling fan. It was sturdy enough to hold him, and if it did fail, he would fall onto the hard marble table. Hopefully then that would injure his brain so severely, it would be fatal. He walked towards the door and opened it ajar. He needed someone to be able to find him dead, find the note.

_Here goes nothing_, he thought. He stepped onto the table. Tying the rope around his neck, he stepped off the table. He felt an uncomfortable tugging around his neck. His breathing was in minimum and heartbeat frantic. His hearing cut off; as did his vision.

Then the relief came, he thought he was finally dead. This made him happy. He felt as though he was being carried away.

"You actually went this far Luke?" He heard a woman's voice whisper. It was faint and familiar. Well, now being dead he could hear again. That was his last thought before he passed out.

***

Much to his despise he found himself in a hospital bed. Alien wires were stuck to his arms. Every breath felt like inhaling sleet. His head throbbed and was bandaged. His heartbeats were erratic. All in all he felt woozy and fatigued. Most of all miserable, so his suicide attempt hadn't worked.

"So deadbeat awakes." Luke turned and found his half brother sitting there. They actually weren't sure if they were related. When their moms confided in each about the fathers of their wedlock children, how he looked and acted like. One conclusion was drawn, it was the same man. That did indeed explain why their noses and eyebrows shared similarity, but that's where the sameness stopped.

"What are you doing here, Conner?" Luke asked, yet didn't particularly care.

The boy straightened himself out. "They had to call someone, when Silena found you dangling from the fan." He cracked a humorless smile. It soon faded as he went on, "Luke, I know thing are bad but really. Don't you think suicide is a little extreme? I mean the Veterans Society would be willing to help-"

"I don't give a shit. I don't want help, I'm perfectly fine." He snapped back, wishing he never left the door open.

"Look at yourself, Luke. You're not okay. You. Need. Help." Conner proclaimed. He was obviously frustrated by Luke. "Why don't I just stick you in the asylum right along with your mom? Huh? Sounds good to me that way I won't have to keep an eye on you twenty four/seven."

Luke clenched his fists. "I don't need you to keep an eye on me!" He spit the words at Conner.

In reply, Conner snorted a staid laugh. "You're lying in a bed because you tried kill yourself. Someone needs to watch you. I know Luke, you have serious depression. After you came back everything was messed up, but it's been seven years Luke."

"I said I'm fine."

Conner rubbed his temples and sighed. "I was going to go to Australia. On a walkabout. Y'know, where you go for a couple months in a group to survive in the wilderness. I want you to take the tickets. Use it as a way to get over this little phase."

"No," Luke replied stiffly.

"C'mon, Luke." He pleaded, "Don't make me force you."

Luke raised an eyebrow, "Force?"

"Take you to court. Make you take a mental health test that by all means you'll fail. Even if you're a grown man, if you're declared mentally insane, I can bring you to court, and become your guardian. Just take the tickets." Conner said anxiously. "Please, you're a soldier, toughen up."

"Fine." He grumbled. Luke had no intention of going, but if he took the tickets it would get Conner off his back.

"The plane leaves next week at two. I'll be there to drive you to the airport." Conner insisted, as he grabbed his jacket and exited through the door.

AN: So that's it. I hope you enjoyed! Sorry if the whole suicide part was vague or misleading. I wasn't so sure all that happens during it. So, I might have based it on Edie's fake attempt on _Desperate Housewives_.


	2. Unfavorable Odds

"Do you know why they call Australia 'the land down under? It's because it's the closest you'll get to hell without getting burnt."

-Christian Shepard, _Lost (Exodus Part One 1:22) _

The way it turned out, Conner did not pick Luke up. Instead Travis did. This wasn't much better. At least Luke didn't have to listen to the ultimatums Conner would give out. With Travis, it was all listening to the "hot chicks" he scored in the past month. Luke didn't give a shit about whatever Travis was leading too, so he blocked him out.

Having Travis there was like a breath of fresh air or something along those lines. Three days later after Luke woke up in the hospital, they allowed him to leave. It was pretty irresponsible of them, but Conner insisted he had everything under control. Any who, for eleven days Conner was there to be bring Luke to work, and bring him back from work. Conner would crash on the couch at night. What was worse was the when something came up he'd send Travis, who wasn't as bad but still. Even more horrendous than that was when both of they couldn't commit, they'd send his neighbor, the one who found Luke, and saved his life; Silena Beauregard.

Silena was one of the people Luke actually felt bad for. She was a very pretty girl, but had absolutely nothing. She looked like a model, but was a waitress at a practically in debt diner. In fact that was her dream, to be a model. Then she got pregnant with her boyfriend's baby. Silena kept the baby, but the boyfriend ditched her eight months after she got the big news. So now she leaves her kid in the apartment with her father, who just happens to a paraplegic and can't work.

Her apartment was worse off than his. The roof would leak brown water instead of Luke's just regular water. Her heating worked only for six hours, and then the air conditioning would turn on; in the winter or summer. Still she was annoying. When she'd "watch" Luke, she'd bring her horribly cheap and putrid smelling nail polish. She would endlessly gossip about people Luke didn't care for and ask for his opinion; which he'd either shake his head or answer one wordily.

He gave up on thinking about his unfortunate recent experiences. He tried to focus on his trip. All honesty, Australia was not the ideal getaway. Don't even get him started on Walkabout. Surviving on your own in the wilderness, didn't he already do that in Iraq? Then there would be the other people there. Luke doesn't like people anymore. He hoped that he could have it just like the factory; if he doesn't bother them, they won't bother him. Still there would be a point when he'd need to talk. Least, that's what Luke imagined.

Worst case scenario would have to sit in a circle and talk about yourself. That would be a big no. Then again, it's all about "finding yourself" so; he doubted that these people would just be average people that really didn't have any other way of spending their summer. A truly terrible part of him hoped that their lives were more miserable than his. Or he actually might enjoy their presence, which indeed would be ghastly.

The best case scenario would be he gets separated from the group, wonders around, and dies. Luke finds the idea plausible and likely. Then again, the odds have not been particularly in his favors. So he once again doubts this.

"Well, here we are big bro. John F. Kennedy International Airport." Travis said, temporarily taking a break from singing along with the radio, which just happened to be playing the _Queen_ rendition of "Bohemian Rhapsody." The odds were obscurely not in Luke's favor.

"Good luck, mate!" Travis teases in a very fake Australian accent.

"Yeah, thanks for the ride." Luke mumbled incoherently. Travis probably found it unintelligible but didn't seem to mind. He went back to his song as he sped away; probably going at least ten miles over the speed limit.

***

Luke took one of the bins, and put what he thought needed to go in it. A simple gold ring that he kept in his pocket and his wallet. He took another plastic bin and put his camouflage back in it. That was it; all he had.

Luke looked like a poor man (not that he wasn't) compared to the woman in front of him. One of her bins was full of silver jewelry. Another had two iPods that had an extremely unnecessary amount of gigabits and cell phone. The third one had a laptop. Another one for her shoes, which must have contained some sort of metal; or that's what Luke assumed. The last one had her carry on, a black over the shoulder bag, littered with pins from rock 'n roll bands.

As the line progressed, Luke was almost at the end. Only the girl with black hair and a crazy amount of bins was in front of him. A sense of relief came through him. He was almost on the air plane, which meant he was almost to Australia. This meant only two day left till the walkabout. Luke had heard about the great bars in Australia. He wondered how much alcohol he could consume in two days to bring him to death.

Finally the girls' last bin went through. The censor made a shrill _beep!_ The security guard took the bag and tore it open.

"Ma'am, no liquid over three ounces are allowed." He ordered taking a hold of what suspiciously looked like a Vodka bottle.

She made a noise that sounded like an irritated sigh. "C'mon, I'm not going to blow the plane up with it. I just want to drink it."

"I'm going to have compensate it." He told her. "There will be alcoholic beverages available on the plane."

"Fuck," She grumbled as she took the rest of her things. He could see her roll her eyes under her sunglasses.

The man behind him moaned.

Luke turned, "Did I do something."

"No, It's _her_," He answered, pointing to the girl who just left. "I thought sending her to rehab would help. Guess not."

"Sorry to hear that." Luke added after a few minutes of silence.

"Yeah well, I tried to fix her by sending her there. I guess relatives make crappy doctors."

"Guess so." Luke responded. This was the longest conversation he'd had with anyone except Conner or Travis or Silena. In which those conversations, Luke barely spoke. He merely nodded or used other forms of body language. He hadn't had such a long conversation with a stranger for seven years.

"I'm Luke." Luke blurted. He wasn't quite sure why he told the stranger his name. He just did.

The doctor stuck his hand out to shake. Luke copied.

"Percy," He said.

Luke grabbed his stuff, which had been cleared air plane safe.

"Nice to meet you Percy," Luke commented as he grabbed his belongings and left.

***

He sat and waited for the plane to arrive. He even bought a magazine to read. He barely paid any attention to it. His mind was focused on the conversation he had with a stranger. On the usually crowded streets of the city, he'd just push his way through the crowd; rushing just like everyone else. Yet he somehow decently held a simple exchanging of words with a stranger. It was such a small step, but was Luke actually moving on? For once did Conner put his best interests in mind? Worst of all, was Conner actually right?

Luke decided to push that out of his mind. Instead he focused on the coming plane ride. He wasn't fond of planes. The last time Luke rode in one, it was on his way back from Iraq to find the incident that occurred to his family. Then while in Iraq, he would jump out of air planes to, well do certain things to certain people.

To bring himself out of his unpleasant memories, the voice of the intercom confirmed that were going to start boarding Australian Airlines Flight eight thirty one. Luke's plane ticket put him dead center of the plane. This was relieving when he sat down, even if he already knew it. He watched the unfortunate person that had to sit in the tail section, right where the wheels would expand to the ground under your feet.

An older man sat in the window seat in Luke's row. When Luke turned his head to take him in, the man smiled. Unbeknownst what to do, Luke was relieved when a girl, the same girl whose alcohol was taken from her sat in the aisle section. She did not regard him at all. All she did was turn off her phone and blast an iPod.

***

Finally the plane took and descended towards the open sea. The girl next to Luke looked like she was going to be sick. She still wore her black shades, but Luke could see her eyes underneath them scan the plane. It was like she was looking for someone to make her feel better.

The man who was seated near him also looked uneasy. The man caught Luke's glance. He gave another warm smile.

"I promise I'm not going to get sick." He told Luke. "My name is Chiron. If you want, you can call me Ron."

Luke blinked. He hadn't expected that. "Luke. You look so… Uptight?" He goes again with these strange conversations.

"I'm afraid I've seen too many episodes of _Lost._" He said.

"Oh." Luke replied.

It seemed as if Chiron lost interest in their discussion. He had settled for the tiny television provided on the plane. Luke decided to follow their lead. Only five hours left before the plane makes its first pit stop in LAX.

AN: So that was the second chapter. I got a whopping 107 hits for the last chapter and no reviews. That saddens me. Listen, I seriously hate begging for reviews, but I need them for inspiration. **Reviews= friends** and I love my friends. Please I don't care if it's to flame it!


	3. Realizations

"I'm not a big believer in... magic. But this place is different. It's special. The others don't wanna talk about it because it scares them, but we all know it, we all feel it."

-John Locke, _Lost_ (_The White Rabbit 1:5)_

***

After about an hour of reading _Time_, the flight attendants came around offering drinks.

"May I offer anyone any drinks?" The Flight attendant asked in a cheerful voice.

Luke was quick to answer no. He wasn't on a shopping splurge; he knew just how much they'd charge for just water. He was going to save his money for after stopping in California.

Ron politely ordered a coffee. Unlike Luke, he asked for milk and sugar.

The girl with the sunglasses, yanked her headphones out of her ears, and told the flight attendant, "I'll have the Rum Rider on the rocks."

The flight attendant looked puzzled. She opened her mouth to say more but the girl dismissed her with putting her headphones back in.

"What?" She snapped at Luke, whom she caught staring at her.

"Nothing," he supplied. Luke decided he did not want to be yelled at again. So as an alternative he began reading again.

Minutes later, the flight attendant returned. She smiled as she handed him his coffee. She then tapped the angry girl on the shoulder. She looked up expectantly. The flight attendant cringed under her glare.

"Umm, it seems that your doctor forbids you to have any alcohol." She swallowed as if she was terrified by how the girl would react. Luke didn't blame her; he really didn't want to know what the outcome would be.

"He told you what?!?" She demanded through her gritted teeth.

"He told me 'don't you dare give Miss Grace; the one with the sunglasses any booze, doctors orders. I would hate to have to get up and take it from her myself.' Sorry Miss Grace."

"Don't call me 'Miss Grace!' That's not my name. My name is Thalia, alright?" Thalia shouted. Most of the passengers started to take notice on the confrontation. Thalia was now standing up, and definitely not respecting the flight attendants' personal boundaries.

"Miss Grace, sorry Thalia, please refrain from shouting and-"

"Look," Thalia began not following the orders. She squinted her eyes at the flight attendants name tag. "Rachel, he is not my doctor! He is a doctor, but not mine. Got it? So he can't order me around! Now go get me what I ordered! Now!" She sat back down, as Rachel scurried away. Hopefully not to answer Thalia's demands. Luke did not want to see how impulsive she could be with alcohol in her system.

The murmuring round the plane about the conflict slowly died down. Allowing Luke to finally get some long anticipating rest.

When he fell asleep he had no dreams. He did not dream the dream that haunted him for seven years. This scared Luke more than anything else in the world.

***

When they reloaded the plane, Luke no longer sat near Ron or Thalia. As he stalked his way down the aisle he saw Percy, who was sitting next to Thalia. His face was grim and voice stern. Luke did not wave to him or start some unconventional conversation. The way Percy was with Thalia remained Luke of himself and Conner. Only Luke was glad he wasn't as pissy as Thalia. He was more of the sullen type. When he got mad he would let the anger boil inside of him, and wait till there weren't any people left to let his anger out. Or better yet to let anyone know he had emotions. He was a man of simplicity. No one ever needed to know how he felt. In all likeness no one ever cared, which Luke could find perfectly wonderful.

This time he sat in the window seat. There were no other passengers near him. This gave Luke more time to do what he hated most, think. Thinking involved him to relate to other people or events. Luke did not want to have any similarity with anything period. He could contemplate why he did not dream of his nightmare but had no plausible answer. Was it because this was his first time on a plane, or was his mind messed up with the company of all these strangers with different personalities? Neither of them made much sense, yet then again, he wasn't making much sense to himself at all.

***

Every single time the plane hit turbulence, Luke felt uneasy. Airplanes were definitely not something he was looking forward to in the near future, then again neither was Walkabout. He shuddered at that thought; the mere idea of having to be social. He was still hoping on his dying alone theory. Though a strange part of him did not want to die, this was odd to him. It was not there when he tied the string around his neck. Then he was filled with anxiety of what would happen next. Now when he thought about death he felt uneasy; just like everyone else. This almost made Luke smile, like he could ever be like a normal person. Even when he was just a mere child he was an outcast. In the army he was not, there he was a leader. Soldiers prayed that he would accompany them. That was before and this was now.

_Too bad, so sad,_ he thought.

***

When he looked up from his magazine and out of the window, he found the ocean. Not too keen on Geography, he hadn't any idea which ocean it could be. Still it mesmerized him. It went on for miles and miles. It was a rich shade of blue. Most would find it beautiful but not Luke. He saw it to be cold, heartless, and unreadable; like at any moment it would be calm and content and in the next swallow a ship whole in ragged waves. Luke did not like the ocean at all. Maybe he could appreciate it if it wasn't in comparison to himself.

***

Landing was just as fun as turbulence. And getting off the plane was a joy ride too. The babies cried even more than had during the plane. People were just as anxious or excited to get off the plane after so many hours on board. Other turned their cell phones on and jabbered into them, guaranteeing their arrival and safe flight. Most, much to Luke's distaste had just awakened themselves from a considerably long nap and could relate to the term 'the walking dead' ever so easily.

Slowly and steadily the line to exit went on. Luke, himself was glad to be out of the plane. His legs were stiff from sitting in the plane for such a long time. He was definitely tired after trying hard not to fall asleep for more than a few minutes because he was afraid of not dreaming.

***

He scurried himself through Sydney Airport's exit door. The heat outside could effortlessly be over one hundred. He looked around and took in the city; after all it could be the last city he'd ever live to see. Inside of him knew that his trip had just started. It finally sunk in that this was truly the beginning of the end for his old life or just life. Either way he took it in stride and hailed a taxi.

An: I hope you enjoyed, why not tell me if you did or didn't? Please I seriously need reviews to write.


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